


Playthings

by alphvjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean, Drunk Sam, Drunk Sex, Episode: s02e11 Playthings, M/M, Smut, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphvjensen/pseuds/alphvjensen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after that scene. You know the one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playthings

He knew it was wrong. He  _knew_. He knew it was wrong, because he’d done a fucking lot of bad things before. This definitely felt like a  _bad thing_. But at the same time – nothing had ever felt that  _good_. He was a sin. Oh hell, he was  _such_  a sin. 

But then again, Dean Winchester was a sinner. Everyone fucking knew it. It really wasn’t that big of a deal anymore, was it?

He could still stop now. He could still limit the damage, if he just quit now. If he just told him to leave. Say that he was too drunk and that in the morning, he wouldn’t want this. Want this. But he couldn’t speak.

He should shove him away. He should tell him that they  _couldn’t_  do this. They were brothers. Siblings. Flesh and blood. He should say something. 

He  _should, should, should_. But he didn’t. Instead, he kept caressing his lips with his tongue, kept his hands tangled in his hair, pulled him even closer. 

God fucking damn it. He makes him lose control. 

He’d managed to pretend that Sam didn’t make him crazy with want well enough before. He didn’t know how many times he palmed his own dick to the thought of his little brother. 

He’d stayed out of his way, he had tried his best to suppress his need, suppress his immoral desire. 

He had watched him kiss countless girls before and he hadn’t said a thing. He’d swallowed his jealousy. He’d been so good at hiding his feelings. He wasn’t his – he probably never would be. And he had to deal with it. But dammit, they way he was looking at him, begging him, making him promise things that he couldn’t promise. God it was all to much.

“I don’t wanna turn into something I’m not, Dean.” He mumbled clutching onto the lapels of Dean’s jacket. “If I can’t save people, then I’m no different than the things that we hunt.”

“Don’t say that, Sam.” He said through clenched teeth, prying his brother’s hand from his jacket. God with how desperate he looked, the look in his eyes that screamed that he was unwanted…a monster, had Dean using all of his self control not just to give in.

Fuck, he was thinking about how easy it would just to take advantage of this boy and it did nothing more than turn him on.

This was a new low. Even for him.

“You don’t understand. I feel it inside me, Dean. I feel it changing me. You’ve gotta. If I start hurting people, you’ve gotta kill me. Promise me that you will.” Sam grabbed Dean’s face, holding him. “Promise me.”

Dean clenched his jaw and then nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

They stayed like that for a while, his hand on his face, eyes locked and neither one of them talked. There was nothing to say, nothing that could pierce the silence that had fallen between them and fuck, he kept licking his lips, looking at his own.

It was driving him insane.

“Thank you, Dean.” Sam finally spoke and that broke whatever cord that was keeping them from moving.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, don’t thank me when you’re dead.” And he tried to pull away from his brother but Sam kept his hold on him.

“No seriously, Dean. Thank you.” He looked so small, almost trembling on the bed, looking so scared. Scared of what he could do. Dean could only imagine the horror shows that were playing in his head.

Demons were foul creatures and to have their blood coursing through your veins… Dean didn’t even want to think of what it  _could_ do to Sam.

It felt awful to think about having to put a bullet through his brothers head. To have to put him down like some dog because something was changing him from the inside. Hell, it hurt like a motherfucker.

All of this information was so new to him, knowing what was happening with Sam. All of this felt so new…and so terrible. 

God, killing Sam would make him lose his mind.

“I know…I know you don’t want to, Dean but you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what it’s like to have this stuff inside of you. I can feel it sometimes. I can feel it inside of me. Sometimes I want to leave. I want to leave you because I’m scared of what I could do. What you would do to me. I’m scared that one morning you’re going to wake up and realize that you’re sleeping right next to a monster and you’re going to leave  _me._ I don’t want you to leave me, Dean.” He had simply been speaking his mind, not really thinking, just letting everything out and Dean couldn’t help but feel  _relieved_. 

He knew that he shouldn’t be. Sam was just talking about leaving him. Hell, he just said that he could hurt him but Sam couldn’t leave. There was something inside of Sam that wanted Dean as much as he wanted him.

And fuck, Dean wanted him so bad. Have for so long. And he hoped that maybe…

“I don’t want you to leave me and I’m not gonna leave you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. 

He looked up at him then, really looked up at him, their eyes locking and then he just kissed him. He grabbed his face and kissed him right on the lips. He hadn’t bothered questioning his actions. There was no need too.

His brain had shut down and he had kissed him back, deeply, with all that he had. 

Now here they were, making out on the old mattress. Dean had dropped down to sit on the bed and now Sam was on his lap, straddling him and driving him crazy. On the inside, he still fought with himself. He sure as hell felt guilty about this…there was no way that he could just take advantage of his brother like this. But in that moment, everything was hazy, he was poisoned by his taste and his scent and it just seemed worth it. He couldn’t stop. He ripped the buttons of his shirt.

“Dean, I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered as he ran his hand up and down his chest just feeling him. He on a sensitive spot under his ear. Sam sighed slightly and his words and the sounds that escaped his lips made him crave her even more. He was so hard for him. 

It was too late to turn back. Even if he’d regret it in the morning, even if  _he_ ’d regret it in the morning… he had to have him now. He needed him.  _Badly_. He continued to undressed him, tossing his clothes to the side. Sam pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he was amazed by his self control. 

Dean himself had obviously none left.

His own shirt was the next to go.

“Sam,” he murmured when he let his hands run over his bare chest, exploring his body. His skin seemed to burn under Sam’s touch and he relished in the sensation. It almost made him tremble. He wished he’d never stop touching him. He wanted to keep him. 

Sam’s fingers brushed over his stomach, along his waist band on his pants, unbuckling his jeans. 

There were to naked bodies now, pressing against each other, both eager, filled with lust. He let his fingers wander, gently stroking Sam, loving the feeling of his brother’s cock in his hand. Sam moaned in response, moving his hips towards him, wanting more. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He pulled his hand away from Sam, not caring that he wasn’t prepped. The lube was all the way across the room and fuck, he couldn’t wait. He wanted Sam. He wanted him inside of him. Wanted to feel him.

Dean slowly sank down on top of Sam, fingers in his hair, mouth parted at the pain, the pleasure. Sam gasped at the feeling of Dean stretching across him. He started moving faster, lost in his pleasure. 

Shit, he felt so fucking great. He was so perfect. Lips were on top of lips, naked flesh sliding against naked flesh and nothing was more right than this. He was going to lose it soon, he could feel it. But he wanted Sam to come first, he needed to feel him come inside him. 

Sam’s moans and grunts got louder and louder as he continued to slide on top of him. Dean’s name fell from his lips as if it were the only word that he knew.

Dean barely had to mutter into Sam’s ear about how he was never going to leave him. That he was his and only his and Sam was coming inside of him, teeth digging into the flesh of his shoulder, blunt nails digging in his back.

And God, just the sounds that he made, the pants and the sound of his name on his brother’s lips sent him over the edge and he came, coating their stomachs.

He committed this moment to his memory, wanting it to be one of the last things that he ever remembers, deciding that this was the most erotic thing he’d ever been able to witness.

The two fell asleep shortly after, legs tangled around each other, completely disregarding the mess on their stomachs. Dean held onto Sam, his lips pressed against his forehead and the last thing that he remembered thing was that he would never be able to kill this sin.

It was a sad and tragic story, wasn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts, comments, and opinions are always welcomed.


End file.
